


Enforcer

by Dickensgal31



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Language, M/M, Organized Crime, Past Character Death, Past punishment referenced, Slavery, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:17:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dickensgal31/pseuds/Dickensgal31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The current government mandate requires that second sons from families of a certain socio-economic level are inducted into the country's slavery program.  Thad Winston was inducted on his sixteenth birthday. For the last twelve years he's been a Mob slave.  After the death of his Crime Boss owner, how will he deal with an unexpected change in ownership?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enforcer

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This one-shot was part of the Orig_Slavefic 2013 Secret Santa SlaveFic Holiday Gift Exchange! I wrote in the hope of satisfying one of my giftee's prompts, while keeping in mind those things that she dislikes and finds distasteful. Now… a word about the story and my writing style. Italics are used for a character's interior thoughts and flashback. You'll be able to tell which is which, I promise. Also, I like to cast my stories. The title banner depicts the main character. The supporting cast is also included below the main banner. I hope you like what I've done. Happy reading! Lisa

 

The monitors filled the room with the familiar beeps and blips common to every man’s vital sounds. His were no different although society would want you to believe them to be. He was human.  
  
He wasn’t seen as human, but, indeed, Thad Winston, Chief Enforcer for the Marchello Crime family was just that. Human. Although he was to society, a non-person as were all slaves, but they still bled red.  
  
The doctor made small adjustments to the man who struggled in his semi-consciousness. He hated to use the soft restraints even if it truly was for his own good. This time. He knew his patient would never see it that way. He’d only see the restraints with the same taint as all slaves. They were for punishment. They were for restriction. They were a thing not used on free men.  
  
As he watched his patient writhe in his sleep he knew they were necessary.  
  
_Thad plunged into the burning building. “Carlos! BOSS!” He shouted through the haze of smoke. The explosions still rang in his ears. The acrid smell of cordite redolent in the still air coupled with the sickly sweet smell of burning flesh.  
  
“CARLOS! BOSS! ANSWER, PLEASE!” The flames shot higher as the building crackled and groaned around him. Windows shattered. Glass shards rained overhead.  
  
Thad shook off the arm that grabbed him. He knew it was Jimmy. It could only be Jimmy, personal guard to the Boss. But then why isn’t, wasn’t he with Carlos? Because he’s also your Handler!  
  
“Thad!” Jimmy tugged him again.  
  
He pulled away. He knew he’d pay for the action later.  
  
Over the roar of the flames he never heard the ‘pop’ of the shot before a searing pain bloomed in his chest.  
  
Everything went black._  
  
The doctor plunged another sedative into his patient’s IV as his boss slowly opened the door.  
  
“Any change?”  
  
The doctor sighed and finished notating the chart. “I need him out at least another two days.” He hung the chart off the footboard, “He needs to heal not just from the GSW but from his other injuries.” The doctor gazed at his boss, Enrico ‘Ricky’ Columbera, with a small sigh as he drew back the sheet, “Thirty years old and his body looks like it’s forty! He’s a mess – bruises, cuts, scrapes, scars everywh…” he stopped and replaced the sheet as a knock sounded on the door.  
  
“Come,” Columbera said quietly.  
  
Giacomo ‘Jimmy’ Gribianni came through quickly. The well-muscled forty-two-year-old gave his host a nod and glanced over at the man who’d been his charge for the last six years. He turned toward the doctor, Jules Dantreaux.  
  
“How is he?”  
  
Columbera’s brows rose mildly and answered instead, “He’s sedated. He will not remain still, even while unconscious.”  
  
Jimmy let out a very soft snort, “I told you he was a fighter.”  
  
“And his body shows it,” Columbera retorted.  
  
The doctor took both men by the shoulder, “Let’s move this outside, yes?” They allowed the doctor to propel them to the ante-room.  
  
“Enrico,” Dantreaux handed him a fairly thick manila folder. “The details,” he glared over at Jimmy for a scant second, “on Mr. Winston.”  
  
Columbera took the folder, “You helped with this,” he addressed his question to Jimmy. “I assume, since you were his Handler.”  
  
“Yes,” Jimmy nodded, “I was and I did.”  
  
“Then I will come to you when I have questions.” Enrico tapped the folder against his leg, “Let me know when he awakens.”

**.:.**

  
The doctor pushed IV meds through Thad’s line as Jimmy observed from the foot of the bed. “You shouldn’t be in here.”  
  
Jimmy glanced at the fifty-something doctor. “I’m the only one he knows here.”  
  
“And,” the medico grimaced, “somehow I don’t think your presence will be welcomed.” He peered over the Bodyguard and Handler with a searingly cold gaze, “Do you?”  
  
“Doctor,” Jimmy kept his voice calm, “I got him out.”  
  
Dantreaux was less than impressed with this feat. Finishing the examination he recorded his notes. Looking back at the Handler he ticked his head toward the door, “I don’t want you here when he awakens. Someone else will sit with him.” He motioned toward the door, “Please.”  
  
Jimmy peered back at the sleeping Enforcer. Remembering their limited but invasive contact finally acquiesced to leaving. He stood in the ante-room at a loss as to what to do with himself. For the past six years, he was Marchello’s Chief Bodyguard and Winston’s Handler. Now, he had no function.  
  
But he loved Thad. Against all odds, he loved the thirty-year-old and wanted to just help him recover from all he’d been through. If that’s even possible. And if Thad and Columbera would allow it.  
  
He felt the doctor’s eyes boring into him as he stood pretending to look out the window at the property’s private orchard.  
  
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said without turning.  
  
“Do you?”  
  
“You’re thinking how could I stand here and be concerned about someone I’ve, basically, tortured.” His voice was quietly resigned.  
  
“Close enough,” Dantreaux answered remaining by the small conference table.  
  
“I did what I had to,” Jimmy said quietly. “I did as ordered.” He finally turned back toward the doctor, “I tried to be as compassionate as I could.”  
  
Dantreaux scoffed in disbelief, “Then apparently you’re as blind as you are callous. Perhaps deaf as well, for I’m hard-pressed to know how you withstood his screams.” He snorted at himself, “I guess that’s the virtue of ear plugs. And gags.”  
  
“He didn’t scream,” Jimmy answered softly, “he never made a sound. At least,” he studied his shoes, “not that he’d let me hear,” he shrugged, “until I begged him to.”  
  
“That’s impossible!” The doctor strode to the window and turned the Handler with a jerk, “Have you seen his body! Just the scars on his feet alone would have caused a deafening scream!”  
  
Jimmy nodded, “That wasn’t me. That was before my time.” He didn’t shake off the doctor, “Anyway, did you see the bite marks on the upper part of his inner arms?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“When I had to punish him, he’d bite himself to keep from screaming.” Jimmy looked past the doctor into his own memories, “I had to beg him to scream. I knew Marchello would make me gag him, if he kept biting himself. Marchello liked to hear the men scream.”

**.:.**

  
Enrico met the doctor outside Thad’s recovery room. They’d kept the Enforcer quiet for the last five days.  
  
“I’ve discontinued the sedative. He regained consciousness earlier this morning. He’s sleeping now. He should wake up in a few hours,” Dantreaux informed Columbera as he packed up his bag. “It would be a good idea if he didn’t wake alone.”  
  
“Agreed,” Enrico nodded curtly, “but not Jimmy. Who would you suggest?”  
  
Dantreaux frowned as he thought about who in the Columbera group would be best, “Your young assistant, Vittorio.”  
  
“Vittorio?” He nodded as he considered the doctor’s suggestion. “Yes, Vittorio would be very good.”  
  
The alarm on Thad’s monitors filled the small ante-room. Dantreaux burst through the door. He was slightly surprised to see that, in fact, Winston was very much awake, but also a little disoriented. Luckily the restraints were still keeping the patient relatively still.  
  
Thad fixed wide, slightly wild eyes on the gray-haired doctor, “My clothes! Sir, I need my clothes! Please, sir!”  
  
_I can’t be without clothes. Without my boots. Unclothed equals whipping. Unclothed equals no meals._  
  
“Please, sir,” Thad swallowed his anxiety, “I need to have my clothes! My boots! Sir, please!”  
  
“Shh,” Dantreaux shushed him, “you’ve no need of your clothes. You must only remain quiet.”  
  
Thad knew better than to disobey. He took in a deep breath to steady himself. He relaxed into the restraints. He was familiar with these. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose.  
  
He took stock of himself. His body.  
  
He could feel a larger sound up his penis. _Okay, that’s a punishment._ He could feel his insides burn with the shame of it. The humiliation. _Yeah, this has got to be for not being fast enough!_  
  
He flexed his hands. _Restraints. That’s punishment, too._ He tamped down further on his fear. _Do not show them. You can do this, whatever this is this time! Sonovabitch just loves to mark you up. You can’t give more reason than he has already!_  
  
He could feel the bandage against his back and wrapping his chest. His chest throbbed. His back burned. And he was naked. _Naked. More punishment._ He swallowed the groan that ached for release. _FUCK! Naked? Completely naked. Fuck! I’ll have no skin on my back after this!_  
  
_What did I do? What didn’t I do? Is the Boss alive? Where the hell am I?_  
  
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists for a moment. _Burning!_  
  
The monitor registered the rabbit-like beats of his heart. Again. _Breathe._  
  
_Oh, God! The warehouse! Fire! The Bernuzzianos! They were coming after the Boss!_ He replayed the last few seconds he was in the warehouse. _I couldn’t find the Boss. Jimmy. Jimmy was grabbing me_. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to capture his memories. _Oh, fuck! I pulled away from him! Then pain…_  
  
His eyes flicked around. _White like a hospital but the Boss would never take me to one._ His eyes wandered around the room again. _I don’t remember ever seeing this place._ He shut his eyes.  
  
His heartbeat sped up. He could feel his breath getting shorter and shorter. The doctor was speaking but he couldn’t hear him. _You need to calm down, Taddy-boy! You’ve got enough strikes against you!_  
  
Dr. Dantreaux stroked his patient’s arm in an attempt to soothe him and calm him without using more narcotics.  
  
_Come on, Taddy. Calm yourself. Don’t let them catch you being weak! For the love of God, man! You were shot! Not the first time. Not the worst you’ve had_. His own revelation took him by surprise. _Shot. Right. Another explosion, then nothing. And now I’m here._  
  
He concentrated on breathing. He heard the beeping on the monitors slowing. He kept his eyes on his chest, counting its rise and fall. Soon the monitor’s beep became calmer. And he felt less scattered.  
  
“There now,” the doctor patted his arm, “that was quite impressive. I’m glad. I didn’t want to have to sedate you again.”  
  
Thad noted the soft tone of the man’s voice. _He seems nice. Kind._ He wanted to thank him but knew better than to speak again without permission. He could only hope his earlier outburst would be forgiven, or since he was disoriented that the punishment would be less severe.  
  
But, then, the rational part of him knew better.  
  
_If Carlos is dead, then who will take over the territory? Maybe his older son? Maybe his brother?_ He snorted to himself. _Hell, it doesn’t matter for me. I’ll be dead, probably. Or sold._  
  
He felt the doctor give his hand a pat. “I’ll be back in just a little while. You should try to sleep. It’s the best medicine.”  
  
Thad swallowed deeply wishing he could answer.  
  
The doctor realized his mistake. “Can you do that for me? Try to sleep?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
The doctor was surprised at the deep baritone of the young man’s voice. He was equally surprised at its strength and steadiness.

**.:.**

  
The next two days passed without complications. Thad woke to sun streaming over the bed he occupied, providing more warmth than the room itself. He felt refreshed. He felt like he’d been sleeping for a week. At least, what he thought sleeping for a week would feel like.  
  
He let out a long deep breath he couldn’t believe he was alone. Without too much movement, he studied the room again. _They’re probably watching._  
  
He gently tried his arms. His brows shot up in surprise as he gaped down at his unshackled hands. _No restraints!_  
  
He let his head fall back for a moment but then quickly stared back at his heavily bandaged wrists. _No cuffs? Fuck!_ He bit back the growl that threatened in the back of his throat. He reached up to his neck. _No collar! AND no cuffs? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I hate that fucking auction shit!_  
  
He huffed in amusement as he flexed his wrists for the first time in seven years. The four-inch metal cuffs that had been welded onto his arms didn’t allow that freedom. They were simply a statement of ownership and the embedded o-ring made it simple to use as restraints. He flexed and rotated his wrists again just enjoying the freedom of it.  
  
He let out a soft sigh and drank in the pleasure of the sun streaming through the windows. _God knows when I’ll get to see that again!_ He knew he was being watched. There was always someone watching. And it was only a matter of time before they were in here.  
  
He wondered again where he was. He gingerly felt his chest and abdomen. _Huh! Well, I guess escaping’s not going to happen. I’ll be lucky if I can even stand. Shit!_  
  
Reaching between his legs he felt a catheter instead of a sound. _Great! Dick tethered! Fuckin’shit!_ He got his breathing under control and felt sleep creeping up on him. He tried to fight it. After a few minutes he lost the battle.  
  
He woke with a small start only an hour or so later. As the door swung open he was taken aback recognizing his visitor.  
  
_Mr. Columbera! What the hell? Huh! Okay, he’s friendly with the Marchellos. Does that mean the Boss is dead? He must be dead. So then Columbera is my new owner? Or is he acting for someone else?_  
  
The Enforcer’s stomach dropped with the same sense of despair and disgust he’d had since the day he was sold into slavery. He scrambled to get his knees under him. Awkward would have been an understatement. He was weak and further hampered by the catheter. _I can hear Jimmy now. ‘Could you be any more ungraceful? Idiot!’_  
  
“Stop! Lay back!”  
  
Columbera’s demand stopped him in his tracks.  
  
“Lay back!”  
  
Columbera placed a heavy hand on Thad’s shoulder. “Dr. Dantreaux is coming to see you. You’ve had surgery to remove three bullets, and you must stay still. I don’t want to have Doc restrain you.”  
  
Thad obediently fell back against the pillows. He could feel the stitches in his chest pulling. He could feel the seep of liquid by his stomach. _I think I’m bleeding. It’ll stop. Oh, Holy Hell! What if I broke the stitches?_ He resisted the urge to run his hand over his chest. _Don’t think about it now!_  
  
Dropping his eyes back to his chest he waited for Mr. Columbera to speak. He’d learned the hard way to only speak with permission. He waited.  
  
Columbera studied the Enforcer as he pressed the button on the side table. In seconds the door swung open admitting the doctor and his assistant.  
  
“What happened,” Dantreaux glanced over at his boss as he removed the sheet covering Thad. “He’s bleeding,” the doctor scowled at Columbera.  
  
“He tried to kneel and bo…”  
  
“Dammit!” The doctor whispered to his assistant who quickly left. “I knew something like this would happen! I should have left the restraints!”  
  
Thad willed himself to be calm. He knew the machines would announce his anxiety. He concentrated on breathing. Calmly breathing.  
  
The doctor removed the bandage encasing most of Thad’s chest as soon as his assistant returned. “Ahh,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “only a few stitches opened.” He smiled over at Thad and gave him a small nod. “Not too much damage then. That’s good. Very good.”  
  
He quickly closed the gaps with surgi-tape. Gently, he turned Thad to look into his eyes, “They’ll be no more moving about until I say. Is that clear?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Good.” Dantreaux gave him a quick pat on the shoulder and turned away. He gave Columbera a knowing look and took his leave.  
  
Columbera pulled his chair over to the bed. “We need to talk.”

**.:.**

  
Thad tracked the young man who brought the lunch tray that had become a regular feature of his day. He always had a kind word, nattered on about the day, the weather, how he was feeling and if Thad wanted or needed anything.  
  
_Didn’t this guy know that slaves don’t have wants? And needs? Who the hell ever cares about those? Still, the kid seems nice. And the lunch was more real food than I’d usually see in a week’s time._  
  
He waited until the kid, he said his name was Russell, left before uncovering the food. A thick soup and a sandwich of something that looked like chicken on hearty bread. And juice. He’d save the juice for last. It was his favorite, orange.  
  
As he ate, he thought back to this same day a week ago. Mr. Columbera told him he was free.  
  
_Free? What the hell did he mean? How can a life slave be freed?_ He took a few spoons of the soup. His mouth filled with the rich spicy taste of chicken and vegetables. Taking a bite of the sandwich his tongue felt the silkiness of avocado. Until two days ago he’d not tasted one of those for almost fourteen years.  
  
Part of him wanted to wrap up the sandwich and keep it in reserve. The food would probably stop soon. He could feel himself getting stronger. Then he’d be back on the protein drinks and the protein gruel that was the norm for him. It was filling and nutritious but decidedly lacking in anything resembling taste. Real food was a true treat.  
  
Although his hands fairly itched to hide some of the food he knew the consequences for that only too well. _I’ll just enjoy it while I have it._  
  
He noticed that the lunches had steadily gotten larger. As if someone knew he’d not had real food for a while. He ate at a comfortable pace remembering all too well the first day when he lost the breakfast he’d been given to the linoleum.  
  
It was a shock that there was no punishment for wasting the master’s generosity of food. The bigger shock was that he was just given more food. Different, blander, but still real food. _An egg! And toast with butter! God, it was heaven!_  
  
A soft commotion outside the door drew his attention from his thoughts. _It’s a little early for my walk._ Taking the last bite of sandwich, he thought back to his first walk.  
  
_Four days ago Russell returned for his tray followed by a bigger, older man. The man, Evan, had a happy face. Strong arms. Those arms could deliver a vicious strapping. He helped me from the bed and stopped me from kneeling. Told me I didn’t have to do that anymore.  
  
That seemed odd, but I didn’t say anything as he put me into a robe. As he put slippers down for me to step into he explained that he’d be taking me for walks several times during the day.  
  
I decided I’d be a good dog for him. Owners like it when you’re good. Obedient. I’d learned that a long time ago. I put my feet in the soft shoes and delighted in their comfort. I bowed my neck for him.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
His voice wasn’t harsh. It surprised me though.  
  
“Waiting for collaring, sir,” I peeked up.  
  
“I don’t have any collar for you,” he frowned, “you don’t need it. Unless you want it. Is that it? You want it?”  
  
I remember thinking this had to be a test. “Sir,” I kept my voice respectful and soft, “I don’t know what happened to my collar. You could be in a world of trouble, sir, taking a slave out that is not properly leashed.”  
  
“Oh!” He nodded and smiled. “You don’t have to worry then. You are not a slave. You’re a free man and it’s time for you to start getting your strength back.”  
  
I felt rooted to the floor as I replayed his words and those of Mr. Columbera. Free? I didn’t know how to be that. I’m a killer. I know how to be that. I’m an assassin. I know that. I’m an expert marksman. I’ve got the whip stripes from training to prove it. I’m an expert protector. And I’m a good slave. Obedient. Quiet. Fast learning. I hate being a slave. I hate what these people have made me. I hate obeying when Jimmy locks my cock in a cage every day. I hate having to ask permission to pee. I hate being milked and beaten.  
  
I hate everything about being a slave. But I am one.  
  
I haven’t been free since my sixteenth birthday. I’ve been nothing for fourteen years. I don’t know how to be free.  
  
“Come on,” Evan urged gently nudging my arm, “it’s nice today. We’ll go to the sunroom. I think you can make it there.”_  
  
As the door opened wide Thad was snapped from his memories. He sighed in relief as Russell came for the lunch tray. But it wasn’t Evan behind him. It was Mr. Columbera. _Shit!_ Thad felt his breath catch, his chest constrict. He slid to the floor and was on his knees before Columbera had completely entered.  
  
“NO!” The young man rushed to him pulling him up from under his arms. Russell shook his head as he seated Thad on the bed. With a wink he took the tray.  
  
“Thad,” Mr. Columbera stood by the bed, “you do not need to kneel to me. I don’t want that. Do you understand me?”  
  
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”  
  
“No need to apologize,” Columbera said softly. A small smile played on his lips. “I’ve come to take you for your walk today. I thought we could talk as well.”

**.:.**

Thad sat looking out the wall of windows in the sunroom. It had been a week since his walk with Mr. Columbera. He glanced down at the manumission papers in his hand. Leaning back in the chair he thought again of their conversation.  
  
_“I know you’re having a difficult time believing you’re free,” Columbera said quietly. “The papers have been filed. It’ll take a week,” he looked over at me as we reached the sunroom, “for processing.”  
  
His smile showed in his eyes. They crinkled at the edges.  
  
“Sit, Thad,” he nodded to the easy chair by the windows. The same one I’m in now. He took the next chair over.  
  
“I’m sure you have questions.” His voice was soft. Quiet.  
  
I kept my eyes on my knees. Clasping my right hand over my left, my naked wrist reminded me that there were no cuffs. My brands expanded as my arms corded with tension, I tried to relax them.  
  
“I’m sure it will take some getting used to,” Columbera gently took my arm, “Doc said your cuffs were welded on. Was it painful?”  
  
I glanced up for a second. I knew I had to answer. “Yes, sir.”  
  
“And the brands, I don’t want to imagine the pain.”  
  
“No, sir.”  
  
His thumb hovered over them before he released my arm. I peeked up at him and saw him peering out the window._  
  
Thad’s hand went to his neck. It remained bereft of a collar. Naked for the first time in fourteen years. Never to feel another collar.  
  
_“I know,” Columbera continued, “that this is a lot to absorb.” I felt his hand under my chin. It was gentle. “Look at me, please.”  
  
I locked my eyes on his.  
  
“You don’t need to look at the floor. Thad,” his voice was patient, “you are a free man. You may look at me as an equal. Do you understand?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“What do you understand, Thad. Tell me.”  
  
“Yes, sir. I’m a free man. I don’t have to kneel. I don’t have to look down.” Thad knew he’d gotten it right but he couldn’t understand the disappointment he saw in Columbera’s eyes. He knew that look. It always meant punishment.  
  
Columbera let out a soft sigh. “Perhaps someday,” he smiled at Thad, “you’ll believe the things you just said. I hope so, anyway. And I’ll help you.” Thad watched the fifty-something six-footer turn to look at him. “I read your file. I’ve talked with Jimmy at great length.” Thad’s intake of breath at the mention of Jimmy was not lost on the older man. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I can’t even imagine the hell it’s been.”  
  
I kept quiet. I listened. It was expected. I knew that.  
  
A tense silence settled over the warm room. Columbera pretended to study the grounds beyond the window. In actuality he was studying the young mob Enforcer he’d rescued.  
  
“May I ask a question, sir?”  
  
“Of course,” Columbera smiled, “you don’t need permission. Say what you like, ask what you will.”  
  
“Thank you, sir,” I kept my hands clasped between my knees. “Will I be your Enforcer, now, sir? Is that why I’m here?” I held my breath at the audacity of the assumption.  
  
“Oh! No! No,” he shook his head with a mild scowl, “that’s not it at all. I don’t have that type of business.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth probably hiding a grimace.  
  
“My business is protection, but it’s all legal, Thad.” Columbera leaned toward me, “You should know that I part ways with our government on the slavery issue. I don’t believe in it. I don’t believe in subjecting a person to slavery because of their birth order or for any reason. I’ve seen your school records, granted you were only sixteen. You were tops in your class. Do you remember what you wanted to be before you were taken?”  
  
Did I remember? I’d made myself forget. I’m thirty now, did it really matter? “I wanted to be an engineer, sir. It doesn’t matter now.”  
  
Columbera smiled sadly, “It does. Maybe that’s not where you should be now. My business is, as I said, protection. It’s a worldwide enterprise. We provide protection for individuals and businesses. We provide strategies for political extractions. I know your skills could be used well. I think you’d be a true asset.”  
  
He thinks I’d be an asset? I’m a tool. I do what I’m told. I’m good at that. I itched to move but resisted the temptation for extraneous movement. I dropped my gaze but lifted it again remembering Columbera’s order to look at him. “I’m not sure how I could help you, sir. I’ll do whatever you want.”  
  
“Thad, you’ve kept yourself alive while under the thumb of that bastard, Marchello. I want you to work for me, with me, with my organization. But,” he rushed on, “not doing what you did for Carlos. You’ll never have to kill again, unless it’s your safety, your life that’s on the line.”  
  
I kept my eyes locked on Columbera.  
  
“My life?”  
  
“Your life is your own,” Columbera explained patiently. “I’d like to be able to take advantage of your skills, your expertise, and I’d like you to be able to take advantage of them. Your skills have a market. You would be well compensated. I know that it will take time for you to become comfortable with being your own person again.” Columbera kept his eyes on Thad, “I’m here, and my staff is here to help you for as long as you need.”_  
  
Thad wanted to believe what he was hearing. Being free was a dream he’d let go of years ago. Working for money, as his own person? That was a fantasy.  
  
_“You free slaves, sir? Is that why I’m here?”  
  
Columbera grinned, “In part. You’ve been in my sights for a while. Taking out Marchello took time.” He stopped and then continued. “There’s more I could tell you, but it will have to wait. I’m sure you understand.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
I could feel him studying me. I was used to the scrutiny of others, masters, handlers.  
  
“Thad?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“I want to ask you about Jimmy,” Columbera finally said. “He, you know he was the one who came to me about you.”  
  
I stayed quiet. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Jimmy.  
  
“You don’t have to see him.” Columbera continued, “ever again. It’s your choice.”  
  
I have choices now. It was strange, having choices.  
  
“Jimmy wants to see you.” Columbera’s voice was thoughtful, “I know he was your Handler. I know that he did Marchello’s dirty work where you were concerned.” He locked his eyes on me, “I know, too, that,” he stopped, “honestly, I don’t know HOW I feel about what he did to you, what he was forced to do to you.”  
  
I wasn’t sure what to do. What to say. Part of me hated Jimmy. And there was a part of me that knew he wasn’t the worst I could have had.  
  
Columbera told me how he got to know Jimmy and, therefore, about me. It was hard to hear. “Do you want to see him?”  
  
I looked away for a moment. “I’m not sure, sir.”  
  
Columbera nodded. “I understand.” He sat back and relaxed, “Think about it. All you need to do, right now, is get well.”_  
  
Thad felt the sun through the windows. Looking down at his bare feet he reveled in the small pleasure of not having to be clothed twenty-four seven. To be able to wear pajamas was a luxury. Now he could. If he wanted, he could be naked.  
  
_I'm still not sure about Jimmy. In the past week Mr. Columbera had become more of a friend than I would’ve thought possible. I could work, build a new life. I was free. Jimmy was a part of my enslavement._  
  
“Thad?”  
  
_Jimmy._ Turning toward him, Thad fought the instant knot in his stomach, the immediate urge to kneel.  
  
“Thad, I’m sorry.”  
  
_His voice has that same note of sorrow I’ve heard before._  
  
“I’m not sure it’s enough, sir.”

 

 

End?

 

 

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Disclaimer: Story Concept and Original characters are the property of the author publishing as Dickensgal31. (C)CMJG Pubs. 2013

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this verse in a collection tentatively titled The Enforcer Collection. Still mulling it over. I'd love to hear what you think of this story! Please don't be shy, I assure you any and all feedback is gleefully read and cherished!  
> Thanks for reading, Lisa


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